


Strange Pollen

by Darth_Nonie



Category: Batman (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics)
Genre: Consensual Sex, First Time, M/M, Male Slash, Not Actually Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-05-08
Updated: 2005-05-08
Packaged: 2018-02-11 20:57:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2082957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darth_Nonie/pseuds/Darth_Nonie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No, for once, NOT the sex pollen. But still.</p>
<p>Summary: Batman doesn't approve of Kon. </p>
<p>Note: This story didn't go AT ALL where I expected, but they're both bigger'n me. Major thanks to the Liv for all her help with Kon (Superboy), and anything I messed up is my own dern fault.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strange Pollen

Kon's eyes rasped open.

The world was blurry above him. He was lying on something that felt like a hospital bed and he didn't recognize the place.

Didn't feel dangerous, though. No restraints, no buzzing lab equipment, no cackling maniacs, that sort of thing. Just the scent of fresh flowers, over a faint earthy smell of stone and water. 

Still, you never know, so he flexed his telekinesis just in case.

Or. 

Didn't.

What?

His powers didn't seem to be working.

And as his eyes focused on the bizarrely zebra-striped indigo and cream lilies beside his bed, the whole business came back.

His team. The strange garden, the lovely but unknown flowers. 

Poison (godsaveus) Ivy.

The fight. They'd had her outnumbered and outmaneuvered, but she'd made one of her speeches, the flowers breathed out a fog of irridescent pollen, and something hit the Off switch on the whole team's superpowers.

Of course, Robin wasn't affected, since he didn't have powers. So he kicked her ass. (Though it wasn't HER ass that Kon was mostly watching. And not for the first time.)

And then Batman dropped in, just happened to be passing by, you know, and collected Ivy's limp body. And maybe she wasn't unconscious after all, because something sharp--thorn? needle?--jabbed into Kon's arm, and everything went to static and shutdown.

And then he wakes up here. Why the flowers?

"Kon."

He nearly falls out of bed. He'd have sworn he was alone. But his eyes refocus past the lilies, and.

Batman.

"What--" Kon tries to say, and coughs at the dry rasp in his throat.

Batman puts a glass of water in his hand. A practical action, not a warm one, but Kon drinks it gratefully.

His throat works better this time. "What--what happened?"

Batman's cowled face is stern and unreadable. "Ivy's in Arkham. You'll recover."

"The others? Tim?"

Batman's mouth narrows. "They're fine."

"Then why--"

"We need to talk."

_Oh, great, the firing squad. What the hell?_

Kon sits up to take this head-on, and his joints scream like someone's driving railroad spikes through them. He suppresses the wince, but of course those sniper-scope eyes see it, damn him.

"Don't move," Batman says shortly, and those black gauntlets probe at Kon's shoulder, his elbow, the base of his neck. Damn it, touch was supposed to be a good thing. This was more like enemy action.

Did the man treat Tim like this?

Tim....

Batman picks the worst possible time to switch to Kon's legs, and Kon speaks up rapidly to distract--well, both of them--from Kon's reaction to the thought of Tim.

"So, um, Batman, what did you want to talk about?"

The steel vise moves to his knee. "Tim. And you."

"What?" He couldn't know--

"Don't pretend stupidity. I've seen you watch him."

O God, this is NOT a topic Kon wants to discuss, not ever and especially not when those fingers are probing far too intrusively into his left hip.

_Talk._ "And you don't approve."

"No." 

_Stupid question._

"Look, Batman, we haven't done anything."

"I know. And you won't." 

It's a threat.

Kon's anger is finally beginning to outvote his embarrassment. "Why not? You don't think he has a right to be attracted to men?"

"You're not a man."

"Look, if we're old enough to fight--" The impatient twitch of Batman's jaw cuts him off.

"You're not listening. I said you're not a *man*."

"Oh."

"You're a construct. Alien tissue, cloned, lab-born, shaped and programmed by an organization with its own agenda."

"But I'm--" Kon breaks off, cursing himself.

"Part human? Yes, I deduced that. And being part Lex Luthor makes you more ... trustworthy?"

Kon slams his head back onto the bed. "Damn it, it's not my fault!"

Batman shakes his head; Kon wonders if that slight shadow is a smile. "Fault is not the issue. Or do you want to assert that life is fair?"

"Um."

"Exactly." 

"Look, Batman, this alien thing; you trust Clark, don't you?" Kon hates himself for the plaintive note in his voice.

"I trust him to be Clark. What should I trust you to be?"

Kon thinks about this, and then sits back up. "You don't really think I'd hurt Tim, do you?"

Batman's face doesn't soften. "Not deliberately."

"What--?"

"Your powers are still changing. You are not fully in control of them. One slip of your heat vision, for example, could be lethal. And has your semen been tested for biohazards?"

Kon is now bright red.

"Superboy, your friendship has been good for Tim, and I respect that. But you will not take things farther until both of you are fully mature."

Kon just loves being lectured at. "Great. Just great. What is this, a death threat?"

"Don't talk nonsense."

"So what will you do if I date Tim anyway?"

A cold chuckle, and Kon's spine cramps. "If despite my warnings, you're willing to put Tim at such risk, that would certainly clarify how to treat you."

O God, and he had kryptonite. Clark had given Batman kryptonite.

A faint twitch at one corner of Batman's lip tells Kon he's been read again. "And this plant's pollen does seem to have useful suppressant properties. I've already sent a sample to the Watchtower for analysis and testing on Clark under controlled conditions."

Despite how much he resents both of them, this worries Kon, and he sacrifices what's left of his cool to say, "With his knowledge and consent, I hope?"

Another chilling hint of a smile. "Kon. Are you judging members of the Justice League?"

There's no right answer to this, Kon knows. So he just blurts angrily, "Of course. It's my *job*."

Silence challenges him.

Find words. "Judging, analyzing, learning, fucking up--"

"Language."

"--Doing what I think is right. That'd be my job just for being hu-- alive. If I've got powers, that's even truer. And since I'm a Titan, it's my responsibility."

"Responsibility."

"Yes, damn it!" _And I'll use whatever language I want, you big nightfreak. What, you'd like it better if I were irresponsible?_

"And your responsibility to Tim?"

_Damn you._ "You already made that point, Batman. You win."

Batman doesn't even bother to respond. Makes Kon even angrier.

"So, Batman, why do you care so much about Tim's love life anyway? Jealous?"

And suddenly the room is very cold. "I. Do not. Have sex with children."

_God, Kon, just shoot yourself now._

_Or do something._

_Now._

"I'm not a child." _OGodwhatthefuckdidIjustsay?_

"Excuse me?"

"You say I'm not a man. So how can I be a child?"

Batman shakes his head. "False analogy. All animals have children."

"And you're changing the subject." Kon's turn to challenge, finally.

"Kon. Are you actually--what? Daring me to have sex with you?"

"Why not?" _I don't believe I'm saying this._

"Don't be ridiculous."

Kon gives up and goes with it. It can't make *less* sense than his life already does, and after all it could hardly lower Batman's already rock-bottom opinion of him. Besides, what's life without the occasional total humiliation?

So he lets himself lounge back and think about it: those hard knowing hands on him, that taut mouth and square white teeth, that predator's intensity. 

And he knows Batman can't miss seeing the signs: the swell of Kon's tight jeans, the flush in his cheeks, the tightening at the corners of his eyes. Hell, the man can probably even smell him.

The thought adds a carnal intimacy: smell and sweat and human imperfection. Kon closes his eyes for a moment and doesn't moan out loud.

"Spare me," says Batman drily.

But--that sounds almost like humor. Kon permits himself to hope.

Which Batman notices too, of course. And people thought *Superman* had x-ray vision. "Really, Kon. You're making a lot of assumptions."

"Yeah?" 

"That I'm interested in men. That I'm interested in young men. Or aliens, perhaps. And, not least, that I'm somehow interested in you."

Kon winces. "Fair enough. But, you know, you haven't decked me yet, so I figure it's possible."

Batman shakes his head.

"Oh, Lord. Batman, at least tell me you aren't involved with Clark."

Batman actually laughs. Kon doesn't think he's ever seen that.

"No, huh?"

"Kon. No. Despite your--hormonal fantasies, I have never been attracted to men."

"Thank God. About Clark, I mean. I think that woulda killed me."

"And probably me." 

This time it's Kon who laughs.

And sighs. "So I guess I'm out of luck, then. Still, could be worse; at least you aren't beating me to death for the suggestion."

Batman tilts his cowled head fractionally to one side. "Why would I?"

"Well, you do seem like, you know, a kinda old-fashioned guy."

"Hm." Batman's eyes consider this. "Given the depths of human evil, I can't imagine wasting hate on something so irrelevant."

"Huh," says Kon, who hadn't thought of it that way.

"But I was under the impression that you were attracted to women."

"Oh, come on, Batman, I'm a teenaged boy. Or whatever. I'm lucky not to be attracted to linoleum. And actually, some shag carpeting looks pretty good...."

Joking. With Batman. About sex. And lightning didn't even strike him down.

"Have you actually acted on this attraction? To men, that is. Carpet does not concern me."

_My god, I think he just joked back. The heavens must be falling._

Kon blinks. "No, I hadn't even thought about, you know, male partners, until a guy felt me up at a party and, well, I liked it. But, after that, I knew what I felt when I looked at Tim."

"Hm. Yes, he is an attractive young man in many ways, I gather. And now--what?--you include me by association, or do you have a costume fetish?"

"It's--" _Your hair,_ he starts to say. _More like shag than linoleum._ But he knows he's taken that joke far enough, and it is a fair question.

"I think," Kon says more carefully, "It's because I recognize something in you. Your--anger. Your isolation. And I couldn't hurt you, even without the pollen. You've taken Clark down when you had to. So I could, you know, relax around you."

"Because I could take you."

"Yeah. Well, sorta. And because you wouldn't feel like I was a threat."

"A threat."

_Would you quit *repeating* everything?_ "Look, Batman, you've got a reputation for, um, caution."

"For psychotic levels of paranoia, you mean. Yes, I've heard it."

"So I'm guessing you're wary of getting involved with anyone. Trust issues. And maybe fear of losing control of your emotions."

Batman doesn't respond.

"But--we already know you don't trust me. And I'm not your type. So, you know, there's less risk."

Batman shakes his head. "And a lack of trust or attraction is, to your mind, the best basis for a relationship."

Kon makes an exasperated noise. "With you? Probably." 

Then he gives up. "Look, Batman, you made your point about Tim, and I've taken enough grief. Can I go now?"

Batman's head tilts sideways for a moment. "If you prefer." And then he pulls off his right gauntlet and cups Kon's face with one warm hand..

"Uh--" Kon manages, and the hard calluses of Batman's thumb brush speculatively across his lower lip. Kon's head thumps back onto the bed again in shock.

"Surprised?" Batman's mouth twitches. "Consider this an experiment."

"--Why?" Kon gasps out, as Batman's other hand tests Kon's nipples through his shirt.

The slight movement of Batman's shoulder could almost have been a shrug. "Curiosity?"

And before Kon can catch his breath, Batman is skinning Kon's t-shirt up over his ribs, and Kon twists to help him.

And those hands on his belt buckle; Kon almost bites through his own lip trying not to come there and then. His boots come off with surprising ease, and with a few seconds' work he's wearing nothing but Batman's hands.

All over him.

Feeling, testing, noting reactions. Kon wants to touch him back, wake something more personal in him, but the Batsuit's in the way.

Batman nods as if he'd spoken, and steps back to shed his armor. "I hope," he says, and his voice is still calm and steady, which hardly seems fair, "That you aren't expecting a perfect fantasy lover. I'm just a man. And neither young nor unmarked, whatever you've been imagining."

His hands pause on the cowl. "I assume, since Tim insisted on telling you his name, that you've deduced my identity?"

"Uh, I think so," Kon stammers. "Bruce Wayne, right?"

"Hm." And the cowled mask comes off, leaving Kon staring at a disconcertingly handsome face that isn't the one he propositioned.

Bruce is wearing casual blacks under the suit, but as he divests himself of the sweater, Kon sees the first of his scars. And then _holy shit!_ more of them. And more. "Don't worry about my face," Bruce says mildly. "It's just a genetic accident, the luck of the draw. Batman is my real face, and the scars are mine."

He sits down next to Kon to pull his own shoes off, and Kon can't help but reach out and trace one long ragged furrow down his ribs. A strange texture, hard and smooth at once, except the knurls where flesh healed awry.

Batman's breath catches just a fraction, and Kon can't stand it any longer, scrabbling at Bruce's belt buckle and sliding his hand inside.

Even half-hard, Bruce is huge, and just feeling him harden further under his touch puts Kon over the edge and he shoots helplessly all over them both.

When he can open his eyes again, Bruce looks amused. "Is that what you needed? Or do you want to continue?"

Kon just shakes for a minute, embarrassed and happy and completely wordless.

Luckily, Batman always could read faces. "Very well, then," Bruce says, and finishes removing his trousers and briefs in one smooth motion.

And folds them neatly and bends to place them on the floor.

And that's just too much, so Kon grabs his shoulder and pulls him fully onto the bed and down where he can wrestle with him. Bruce laughs briefly and runs his palm down Kon's sweaty and semen-sticky chest.

"Odd," he comments.

"B-Batman," Kon gets out, "I don't think you're getting into the spirit of this."

"I thought I'd be polite and wait until you're ready again. But I see that won't take long."

Batman thumbs curiously at Kon's nipple, rougher with every stroke. "But this does feel odd. Which surprises me, since I regularly handle men's bodies for other reasons."

Half of Kon feels insulted at Bruce's detachment, but the other half shares his surprise. Kon is used to being larger and stronger than almost everyone around him except Superman. But Batman is massive; not just the size, but the sheer density of muscle. Kon's fantasy Tim mostly feels like a wiry little flat-chested girl, but this is nothing he's imagined.

So he takes Bruce's exploration as permission, and fills his own hands with muscle ridge and callus, heavy-boned joints and welted scars. 

Two half-healed wounds are more recent: a stitched incision just below one shoulder, and a tightly wrapped ankle, the flesh swollen and discolored above the bandages. Beard stubble against his face is new, too, and the weight of Batman's body resting partly across his own.

Then Bruce leans in to test Kon's nipple with tongue and teeth, and Kon's hand spasms involuntarily on the sutured cut.

And Batman surges hot and hard against him, biting viciously at Kon's flesh, and they lose all distance in the urgency of it

It's more real and human than Kon could have imagined: the smell and taste of sweat, the attempt at kissing that jars their teeth together, the wrestling roll that almost drops Kon off the bed. The odd texture of Batman's bandaged leg against Kon's inner thigh. Kon stubbing his thumb against the bedframe, and Bruce nearly mashing his nose against Kon's suddenly raised elbow.

They make awkward moves. They squelch when sweaty torso meets sweaty torso. Kon accidentally pulls out some of Bruce's chest hair with his teeth, and Bruce almost knees Kon somewhere very personal as he shifts position.

The friction of moving bodies almost makes them come just by itself.

Kon thinks about going down on Bruce, but is afraid he might choke. He knows Batman reads both those thoughts in his face. Bruce's hand pauses on Kon's ass, touching his anus, but moves on and wipes itself off on his thigh, and Kon is slightly more relieved than disappointed. 

Finally, almost by accident, their cocks brush and stutter against each other.

With a certain clumsiness of knuckles and colliding thumbs, they fist each other's cocks and start pumping for real.

Their rhythms are off. Kon tries to grip them both at once and only succeeds in jamming his little finger against the back of Bruce's hand. Bruce's chuckle is quiet; Kon's laughter is mildly hysterical. Their grunts, though, sound almost alike.

It's mostly chance that flicks Bruce's thumbnail across Kon's swollen head. 

But it's enough, and Kon spills hotly all over their hands, still thrusting with desperate greed until he can't stand to be touched one moment longer. By then, Bruce has bruised Kon's stomach with the driving stroke of his own climax.

They're still laughing, in their different ways. 

Finally the sweat's too much and they flop apart onto their backs.

"I," says Batman sternly, "do not cuddle."

"Terrible," says Kon, and they lie there side to side, shoulder to shoulder and hip against warm hip, still laughing occasionally.

When Kon stretches, he accidentally bumps Bruce's sprained ankle, but it doesn't seem that important.

\-----

**Author's Note:**

> This is NOT the story I thought I was writing. 
> 
> I was expecting something much grimmer, of the "You want sex? I'll show you sex, boyo!" sort, rather like Halrloprillalar's gorgeously harsh Jonathan Kent/SmallvilleLex story "Dirt." But no, Kon managed to make Bruce laugh, and there they went.


End file.
